Run to you
by Raising cain
Summary: Gwen was smothering him, and all Jack really wanted to do was run, just run.


The cog alarm blurted out a siren, announcing the arrival of a less than impressed captain Harkness followed by his bedraggled team. They'd been chasing a weevil in the abandoned factories just off the dock. Usually that was what Jack lived for, the adrenalin rush that stripped away complicated and tangled thoughts, it stripped him back to the basics. Adrenalin left Jack relying purely on instinct, doing good, fighting crime, all that superhero crap. But most of all it reminded him of his doctor, all that running.

God running made him feel good, it made him feel alive.

Yet the day's events had stripped him of even that simple pleasure. The docks had been too cramped and crowed, the corrugated and rusting metal walls blocked off decent open space, and tin roofs had given the whole place an eerie glow, like a reign of permanent shadow.

By the time Jack had got up any sort of running speed he'd had to slow or turn, always having to watch his step, watch his team, always having to think.

Owen had had a clean shot of the weevil several times, for that matter so had Gwen and Jack. Only to have the maze of warehouses spit another team member right into the line of fire. The stupid chase had lasted over an hour. Jack had got bored and reckless.

So Jack had sent Gwen and Owen either side of the weevil's present route, while he launched stones at the creature. The weevil, as expected, hadn't taken too kindly to the projectiles and took off toward him. Jack was off, tearing toward fresh air with the weevil at his heels, he hadn't stopped once till he'd reached the edge of the dock. There he had turned to embrace the snarling and charging animal, grabbed its arms and torso he'd allowed the motion to propel them backwards into the water.

If there was one thing weevils didn't like, hated, and even feared it was water. They couldn't or didn't swim, just sank, like bricks.

Owen and Gwen had both watched the display with a bit of a chuckle, Jack had appeared to be having a blast, just floating while the weevil thrashed. This had only lasted for a second though before Jack had swum for the weevil, intending to drag it to shore, he wasn't cruel, just a little frustrated.

That's where it had gone wrong. The weevil had slashed at Jack tearing his throat and chest, but before Jack could bleed out the weevil had started to sink. Having its claws sunk into to Jack prevented the wild thrashing that had somehow kept it afloat.

Jack had drowned, he hated drowning. Feeling such a foreign substance in your lungs was awful and to know what it was doing, what was going to happen was worse. Jack wasn't afraid of death; you didn't fear what couldn't touch you. Jack feared life. The sensation of dragging yourself over broken glass to get back, and back for what, just for another reminder you couldn't die, that life and everything you love would pass you by. Plus he'd spent hours after expelling the water left in his system. It would be in his stomach, a little still in his lungs, his ears so he couldn't hear, and it would sting his nose and eyes. Death cleared him of his mortal wound but left the bloody 'harmless' water behind.

Gwen and Owen had had to rescue Jack and the drowning weevil, leaving the whole team soaked and miserable.

The journey back had been, for want of a better word, uncomfortable. Jack and Gwen had argued about his recklessness and Owen had shared a seat with one soaked, stinking and unconscious weevil, it had been too wet to restrain properly and would have ruined the equipment in the back.

As soon as he was through the door Jack went straight to his office, to breathe. Owen more or less ran to the showers and Gwen was left to drag the weevil to the cells, thankfully Tosh saw the state she was in and offered to help her. With that Job done, Tosh now equally as soaked and the pair of them smelling like wet dog, they hit the showers too.

Jack was left alone to brood.

He was staring out his glass walls when he caught movement from the kitchen area. Someone must have called Ianto and requested coffee, or maybe it was just Ianto being Ianto. That boy had a 6th sense; he was always there right when he was needed. The team always joked that no one knew more about the Hub than Ianto, but Jack had never questioned its truth.

Jack knew he was staring but he couldn't help it, Ianto's body cried out to be gawped at. His whole anatomy was made to be worshiped, the subtle muscles hidden under suits, his sharp cut jaw, his slender fingers and well defined arse. Even the way he moved was graceful and silent, he captivated Jack.

"Come on love, let's go home." Jack was snapped from his thoughts by Gwen. "Please Jack, send the others home and then let's go home too. It's been a long day, please."

Jack flashed his megawatt smile, "For you my dear anything."

Captain Jack Harkness didn't do unnecessary guilt, he carried the weight of the world, why bother with anymore. Plus he didn't think he had anything to feel guilty for.

He and Gwen had been together for five months now; the courtship had begun more or less as soon as Gwen started. She'd been one hell of a woman to track them down and then shake off Retcon. She was brave and unyielding, and brought that shred of humanity that he and the others had started to lose. After too long in this job you couldn't help but let your faith dwindle. Yet Gwen brought it back with a fire, and it didn't hurt that she was beautiful.

It's just that Ianto was, well, stunning. What else could be said about him? He was beauty and sheer brilliance, he had that hint of danger too, and how that boy could control himself, if that Lisa fiasco had taught Jack nothing else, it had at least taught him that. Not to mention that magnificent loyalty, which once earned was second to nothing, not even Gwen's morality.

So as Jack saw it he was entitled to stare, Ianto's whole being invited it. Plus it's not like Jack was blind enough to miss how Owen and Gwen danced around each other, at least Jack was more discrete than that.

Jack had moved into Gwen's place shortly after their first month together, he hadn't wanted to wait longer, why postpone the memories he could be making. Gwen had split with Rhys; it had by no means been easy. Torchwood had been taking its toll, they hadn't stopped fighting and she hated all the lying. So once she knew Jack returned her feeling Gwen had spoken to Rhys, not at all surprised to hear he felt the same, they parted.

The next few months had been honeymoon bliss; Gwen had brought back Jack's lust for life, fresh eyes to look at the world with. And Jack had given Gwen a lust for the Job; she had someone to confide in, to love and trust.

Unfortunately that was the only lust they brought each other. Neither would acknowledge it, to be honest they had hardly noticed it. Torchwood was demanding and gave ample excuse for a low sex drive; what they'd seen or what they had ended up covered in that day, that's if they even had the time and hadn't just passed out on the sofa.

They got by on hugs and kisses, being open with each other, they didn't need sex, the constant displays of affection and platonic love got them through. At least that's what they liked to think.

In reality, Gwen had started a near constant stream of flirty banter with Owen, and she batted her eye lids at every male in the line of work, using the excuse of making police cooperation easier. Jack had too, not that anyone noticed his 'excess' flirting. But five months had started to take its toll, it hadn't been void of sex, just greatly diminished from what they, or at least Jack, was used to.

Xxx

When Jack and Gwen arrived home Jack headed straight for the drinks cabinet.

"Seriously Jack, as soon as we get in?" Gwen was watching him from the lounge doorway. She was leaning on the frame cross armed, an almost pitying smile on her face.

"What?" Jack feigned ignorance, but halted the scotches accent to his lips, he knew exactly what this was about, and Gwen's shake of the head told him she knew he did too.

"Gwen I can't die, what harm could this possibly have?"

"I just don't like it Jack. It shouldn't matter if you can't die, we don't even know if your, resurrection thing's got a limit! Anyway the alcohol won't kill you, just make you ill. Fancy dying from liver failure?! Anyway it makes you stink. Come on Jack do you really think I want to cuddle with a man who smells like a liquor store." Gwen's smile was changing from pitying to mocking, and she moved through the doorway to hover in front of where Jack was slouched on the sofa.

"Oh, and here I was thinking you love the way I smell." Jack stood up, pasting his body against Gwen, encasing her in his arms and flashing another megawatt smile, she stood there giggling and rested her forearms on his chest, a subconscious barrier.

"What do you say we head straight to bed so I can remind you _all _about my 51st century biology?" Jack leered, lowering his hand to lie on her hips, fingers squeezing slightly, leaning forward to breathe that last sentence in her ear. Still giggling Gwen stilled in contemplation and pushed away from Jack.

"Give it up Jack you stink. Look, go have a shower, we've still got to do the washing and you promised to look over the boiler, remember?"

Normally the great Jack Harkness could take this in his stride, he had for the past five months, yet tonight he couldn't.

Gwen had domesticated him. The legendary Jack Harkness was doing washing and DIY, and he wouldn't of minded if his relationship with Gwen hadn't been so . . . dead. It all felt like a chore, and for the first time in a while he was dreaming of other planets again. He was dreaming of the Doctor, of Rose, even of the Time Agency, anything but the monotony of his day to day existence.

As he made his excuses for leaving "We're low on milk again, do you breath it?" Jack was still thinking. He couldn't cope because today he hadn't run, he'd died. He hadn't even had half a chance to flirt with Ianto because the weevil hunt had taken so long. Today Jack hadn't been able to distract himself.

Before Jack knew it, before his brain had even registered his command, he was running, sprinting down the road. The shop was the other way, it had only been an excuse, but now he had no idea where he was going. But he passed a white gate with pretentious gold writing, and it hit him. He hadn't been here since the cannibal incident and he'd laughed at the gate then, only to distract Ianto as he took him home. Jack was headed for Ianto's flat.

Jack didn't stop; he kept running the whole way to Ianto's door, even passing up the lift ride just to run the four flights of stairs.

Jack had too much adrenalin pumping to back down now; he knocked on the door waiting for an answer. It wasn't late, he'd sent them home early, it was only eight 'Come on Ianto, be in be in'. The door in front of him opened, as if by his will power alone, and Jack was greeted with a sight he didn't even know he needed to see. Ianto was wearing faded blue jeans that were a little baggy and sat low on his hips and a complimenting black t-shirt that hugged his torso tightly. Jack couldn't believe his luck but the boy had obviously just been in the shower too, because his hair was wet and sticking out all over the place.

"Uh . . . Sir, Jack what's wrong!" Ianto was openly startled to have his boss at the door and his brain automatically jumped to conclusions, Owen? What about Tosh? Gwen!?

"Relax, Ianto its ok I came to, um, see you." Jack didn't even have the decency to stop gawping as he calmed Ianto.

"Me?" Ianto's eyebrow rocketed up his forehead. Never the less he stepped back to grant Jack access to his hall way.

"Yeah, well we didn't really talk today. We haven't in a while I guess." Jack was mercilessly scoping Ianto flat as they walked toward his sitting room. It was plain and pure white. The walls, the ceiling, the furniture and fittings, the floors were laminated pale wood, Ash. The only colour came from cushions and photos. Jack got it; Ianto's life was so out of his control that his home, the only thing he could organise and control was exactly that, organised and controlled.

"You don't by any chance have a drink do you Ianto? Make it something strong."

"Yeah Jack hang on, um make yourself at home." Ianto was warming to Jack, it was hard not to, and it's not like he was doing anything, TV didn't get good till later and then only if you're lucky, it was usually just a load of reality crap.

"Ah, thanks." Jack was already nestled in the corner of Ianto's sofa, when he returned with the scotch and a glass for both of them.

"So Jack, why are you here, Gwen giving you hell?" Ianto snorted, the thought of twenty-four seven Gwen was not, appealing. Jack took the joke, laughing at it a little himself. Jack found that just being free of the house, free of Gwen, made him feel lighter already. Downing his first glass, despite Ianto's perplexed stare, he poured himself another and promptly changed the subject.

Xxx

Three hours, several drinks, two missed calls, and seven texts from Gwen later, Jack and Ianto were still on the sofa, laughing and decidedly a lot closer. Ianto hadn't even noticed the hand on his thigh or the shoulder touching his own. Jack However had, and it was in these movements that he felt more alive than ever, Jack felt fresh air blowing out the staleness of his routine.

Jack wanted this, wanted Ianto more than anything he could remember. With that in mind he adjusted his position on the sofa turning his whole body inwards toward Ianto.

It was this movement that made Ianto look toward Jack, and when he caught Jack's eyes he gasped. Ianto had never seen such passion and lust aimed at himself before. He started to back off a bit, he wanted Jack, God knows he had for the longest time, but there'd been Lisa and now Gwen, Jack was always off limits.

The intensity of Jack's stare was hard to meet, so Ianto shuffled back. Jack however grabbed his arms and pulled Ianto onto his lap.

"Jack, don't! You're drunk . . . what about Gwen . . . I . . ." Ianto was fighting a lost battle; he knew Jack wasn't drunk, the Captain rarely drank because of duty, but when he did Jack could hold his own. Ianto knew Jack had thought about this, he could the see sharpness in his eyes, but most of all Ianto knew he needed this too.

Ianto pulled himself flush to Jacks chest, straddling his hips, reclining his head and allowing Jack to lick and caress his neck. Jack stopped his nibbling to kiss Ianto, it was a deep kiss, Jack barely paused to ask permission, his tongue sliding across Ianto's lips and then between them. One hand held Ianto's back possessively, fingertips slipping ever so slightly into Ianto's boxers waste band, while his other arm slipped under Ianto's arm and held his neck drawing Ianto closer, making his whole body move up a little. Ianto tasted of spice, a lot of coffee and something fresh, like mint.

Ianto was keening, melting with Jacks touch, responding to every movement. With a couple more laps of his tongue Jack had mapped Ianto's mouth, sweeping his tongue once more over Ianto's teeth before breaking the lingering kiss to lick a path down his neck. When Ianto dipped his hips to access Jacks mouth again, Jack didn't think he was going to make it. Their groins had brushed causing the most delicious friction Jack had ever felt, his blood rushed southwards and he bit Ianto's neck, needing something else to ground him, Ianto all but screamed and Jack had to do something now before he lost the ability to savour the moment.

Jack stood up; using his arms told Ianto he picked him up too. Ianto's legs wrapped themselves around Jack's waste, holding tight as Jack propelled them into the nearest wall. Ianto's back made contact first, forcing him closer to Jack and knocking the air out of him so they both had to stop and breathe. Jack leaned forward and licked the shell of Ianto's ear before whispering into it "Bed." He wasn't going to last much longer like this, and though he wanted Ianto, he wanted to remember the experience more.

Jack threw Ianto on to the bed once they'd reached the room, and stood for a while admiring his catch, Ianto was stretched on the bed sweating and breathing ridiculously deeply, all the while his blue eyes desperately imploring Jack to finish what he'd started. Jack took his time crawling up the bed to Ianto. Hovering over the boy he started to undo the buttons and when Ianto moved to return the favour Jack grabbed his wrists and moved them back down above Ianto's head.

"No you stay. Do. Not. Move. Or I'll stop." He punctuated his sentence with licks down Ianto exposed flesh, pressing his knee lightly into Ianto's groin.

"You're my gift, tonight I get to explore you," Stopping again to locks eye's with Ianto and then bite his bottom lip, Jack mumbled a promise, "We will do this again and you'll get your turn. But tonight I show you just how much you belong to me."

Ianto could have come right then, if not for the pressure on his cock promising a hell of a lot more. He didn't move again as Jack, what could only be described as pounced on him.

Xxx

The next morning found Ianto locked in a death grip. Jack was surrounding him, not one part of his body was left untouched by Jack's. And God it felt good. He ached all over, and the warmth radiating from Jack was heaven.

Jack was there with Ianto too. God! That boy, no,_ his_ boy was amazing. That's what Ianto was now, completely and utterly his. Jack had marked him, more than once, and in some quite obvious places, Ianto's neck was one giant bruise. Of course there would be questions and underhand comments at work, but Ianto would deflect them while Jack basked in the glow of knowing he'd done it.

Ianto turned to face Jack, and when their blue eye's met Jack felt something, a spark he thought long gone. Ianto was his escape, his saviour and he had to say something, anything, to keep that boy for him alone.

"She's got a heart of gold, she'd never let me down. But you're the one that always turns me on, you keep me coming round." Jack pressed a hand to either side of Ianto's face, rolling them both over so he was on top, this part needed to stick "I know her love is true, but it's so damn easy making love to you." Punctuating his point by stroking Ianto's cheek with his thumb while licking the side of his neck, Ianto was reduced to a whimper mess

"I got my mind made up, I _need_ to feel your touch, I'm gonna run to you," Jack sharply moved Ianto's face, angling it to make eye contact. "When it gets too much, I need to feel your touch I'm gonna run to you."

Ianto closed his lips over the Captains, smashing them together, creating a bond, a promise that Ianto would be Jack's. His safe haven, someone he could run too.

It had hardly been an expression of undying love, but Ianto suspected that was the closest to it the Captain got. And it was a hell of a lot more than Gwen ever heard.


End file.
